


The Intentional Stance

by ffeater



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffeater/pseuds/ffeater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are questions that can't be answered by a complete compilation of their genome and even if Cosima hates to admit it there are problems that science can't fix. Oneshot, Cosima and Sarah having a discussion post-finale. Light Corah (or whatever it's called.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Intentional Stance

“So were you gay the whole time?”

            “Uh, what?”

 

Sarah’s question disturbed the catatonia that normally accompanied her staring at base pairs and while she had heard her clearly she wanted an extra second of not answering for the sake of articulating herself. The initial route of self-preservation presented itself as sarcasm, “Well, maybe for like, three quarters of the time. I took off weekends.”

            Sarah eyed her and she sighed, “Yeah, sorry that was lame.”

 

Cosima hadn’t left yet, knowing without asking the comfort that having the lot of them within shouting distance provided and that with Kira missing Sarah needed every comfort they could spare. She’d emailed her teachers and advisors that there has been a family emergency and that wasn’t a lie. Kira had become their daughter too, hers and Allison’s though she wasn’t in any mood for clone club bonhomie. Even the mysterious Rachel must have felt the twinge of attachment, the biological response of a parent. Two nights before when Sarah had returned shouting and shaking she had tried to use that to comfort her.

“They won’t hurt her, she’s too valuable to them. They’ll take good care of her Sarah.”

            “Great, so they’re gonna stick her with needles and keep her on a gurney  for study until I give them what they want.”

 

            It had taken her hours to exhaust herself past rage into quiet sobbing; Felix had wrapped his arms around her as she rocked on the edge of his bed saying, “I was supposed to take care of her Fe.”

 

Delphine had left for her hotel room hours before and she’d stuck around hoping to help but when the crying started she was left to awkwardly fringe the edge of interaction, wanting to provide reassurance but not knowing how. A scientific vocabulary wasn’t great for empathy. Sometimes all you could do was stay so she’d be damned if a little awkwardness was going to scare her off. Once Sarah had fatigued herself into sleep Cosima had broached the subject.

“Would you mind if I slept here?”

 

Felix looked blank; at the precipice of confused panic but still together for Sarah’s sake. He looked at her as if he’d forgotten she was there and then cleared his throat, “Yeah.” And that was it.

 

The next day they had started something of a phone-in campaign, any number they’d received mysterious calls from was redialed but there was often no response. When there was it was an unrelated business, a dry-cleaners in Kansas or an ice cream parlor down the street. Delphine had returned to help sit the vigil but left again under the suggestion that she might be able to make contact with someone who knew something. Paul had driven to the club and found it abandoned. He said they’d ‘field stripped’ it which Cosima assumed was something that any scary ex-military private security guy would be able to identify. He had tried to hang around but Sarah had asked him to leave.

“Of course, I’ll call if I learn anything.”

“Thanks.”

Cosima had sat on the couch with her back to them, suddenly happy that, thus far, Sarah had allowed her to stay. She had been worried that her dalliance with the philosophy of the enemy might still linger over them but it seemed to have cleared with the discovery of the patent. Spending time in close quarters had provided an interesting opportunity for study, even when they’d been organized under Beth they’d never spent much time together. How could they? Cosima imagined a sleep over at Beth’s pristine town house or in Allison’s guest room- both were ridiculous.

It was possible that her slight objective professional excitement at being a clone could be taken as an insult to her fellow genetic identicals but such a unique opportunity to study the effect of genetics versus upbringing on social behavior would be hard to find anywhere else. She had tried to respectably catalog similarities, for instance Sarah slept the same way she did, curled up at first and then somehow moving onto her stomach overnight. She took her coffee the same way, which Cosima hypothesized, had to do with similar taste bud configuration from identical genes. They even sneezed the same. It was silly of her to think that if she was making these observations than the woman in the room with arguably the exact same brain as her wasn’t asking her own questions.

 

“Yes, I am a full-time gay. Have been since I was six, crush on my art teacher.”

 

Sarah slumped down beside her on the couch. It was a hopeful thing that she cared enough to ask, maybe a sign that she had maintained her sense of humor as Cosima had once urged her to.

 

            “Isn’t that supposed to be genetic?”

Cosima thought she heard a lilt of amusement.

 

            “Human sexuality is way more complex than an on-off switch somewhere in your genetic code, that’s just the way politicians like to look at it. Really heterosexuality is a socialized normality but biologically things like that are much more fluid.”

            “You’re speaking grad student.”

“Sorry, native language.”

            “Either way let’s not tell Alison yeah? She’ll overanalyze some eye contact with one of those suburban ice queens at a jewelry party or something and drive herself mad.”

 

            Cosima laughed, not so much at the joke but at her relief that Sarah could still make it. Their friendly mocking of Allison veiled their worry for her. The few times she’d picked up the phone had told them enough to be concerned. She had signed the papers and they were yet to learn what that might mean. It had instilled a feeling of dread, a foresight of some danger on the horizon and the knowledge that it was just the two of them now. How much longer the two of them might last she didn’t know, the coughing had worsened even in the two days she’d spent there. It was getting hard to hide it. Delphine said she’d find a way to fix it but Leekie had implied that not even he had an answer and if he had helped make them what hope did she have?

            “Is that why you didn’t let us in on it?”

            “I never said I was _straight_ either. You made an assumption.”

“Sorry, but I don’t know anyone who would assume you were straight.”

            “You’re kidding.”

“Oh come on, that hair? The nose ring?”

            “You think I look gay?”

 

Sarah shrugged in mock confirmation.

            “We look exactly the same.”

“You’re making the assumption that I’m straight then?”

            The joking tone ceased, Cosima cocked her head.

“What?”

 

            The sudden attentiveness seemed to make Sarah more protective of the information she had just offered, as if she thought providing it might implicate her in something and she wanted to know what before she said anything further.

“Two seconds ago you were on about heterosexuality being a social whatever.”

“No…yeah, I just didn’t think- so you’re…?”

            “I think I’ll go with biologically fluid.”

“Oh. Right. Wow.”

 

            Cosima looked at her, the same face as herself. It was only through familiarity that she could see the differences, the tiredness and anger in Sarah’s eyes that made them unique. How far did the similarities extend? The differences? Were there scars in the same places? Did their identicalness mean the same sensitivities? The same habit she had of closing her eyes when someone touched her, of biting her lip to keep from making noise as if doing so said more than she wanted to? Did she have the same aggressiveness and inherent need to be in control of another person’s body?  The effects of genetic similarities on sexual preference far beyond simple identity; Imagine the dissertation.

Even before it had been impossible not to consider, how many times had the same question been asked amid a circle of baked friends in San Francisco, ‘If you could, would you fuck yourself?’ Looking at Sarah she couldn’t remember what her answer had been. Clearing her throat she felt the scratching strain of her lungs, the rawness from a coughing fit earlier in the day.

 

            “Shit, then we can definitely not tell Allison.”

 

            Sarah laughed, a throaty, authentic laugh that Cosima noticed didn’t sound like her own.  She cleared her throat again, her chest hurt. Sarah looked at the computer screen.

            “So that’s us huh?”

“Yep, well, me but yeah, you too for the most part.”

            “It’s massive.”

“I haven’t been all the way through yet but you get the gist, someone spent a lot of time making this. Making us.”

            “Great, well if you’re going to be a science experiment best to be a time-consuming one.”

“It’s not all of us though, like I said, the nurture isn’t in here. You can’t code that.”

 

Sarah didn’t respond, whether she wasn’t convinced or the thought made her somber Cosima couldn’t tell.

 

            “But even in the code there must be differences. I mean, you have a daughter. Beth and Allison couldn’t and not that I’ve tried but I’ll bet it’s the same.”

            Sarah was quiet for another second, remembering the situation. That Kira was somewhere else.

 

“Maybe that’s not right, maybe Allison should have been the one able to have kids. She was the one willing to do everything.”

            “No, come on, you’re willing to do everything. We’ll get her back.”

            “Yeah, do all those letters tell you that?”

 

She nodded her head at the computer screen, the code that could be directly translated into them and yet paled in comparison to their existence. Their lives and experiences, their futures, were not here for her to interpret. What good was their genome if it couldn’t even tell her how to keep Kira safe, or Sarah? If it couldn’t tell her how to get Allison back on their side? She had been over and through it hoping the answers were there but knew that they weren’t. Her science had reached its limitation and beyond it she was frustrated and useless.

 

            “You okay?

Cosima nodded, not risking the irritation of a full sentence she only managed, “Yeah, just gotta run to the bathroom.”

           

            Behind the closed door she tried to keep quiet as she coughed blood into a wad of tissues and knew that fate was not assigned genetically.


End file.
